


acting honest

by qrovers



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Fake Dating, Fake Proposals, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, posting this again for twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qrovers/pseuds/qrovers
Summary: Brad and David pretend to be together. (Feelings get involved.)
Relationships: Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee
Comments: 20
Kudos: 90





	acting honest

**Author's Note:**

> this for u mq twit ! ilu all ! there might b some lines that i mightve reused in another fic bc this was originally scrapped but whatever yk?  
> (also i personally think david n his wife still have a fairly ok relationship but for the sake of plot they do not in this fic)  
> (yes, reggie is a community reference sue me)

Here's a thing that doesn't happen, Brad asking David for any kind of non-work related help. Brad never needs help, and certainly doesn't ask unless you owe him some kind of favor. And if he does, he would certainly not ask  _ David _ , of all people. Because David is told he's too kind to tell when someone's messing with him or not. And Brad is the opposite of kind, and he definitely won't actively ask David, the human punching bag, for help.

However, after quarantine and telling off his superiors, David learned to grow a beard, both figuratively and physically, even though it's more of just stubble at the moment. No longer is he going to be 'the personified doormat' or 'a gullible child in the body of a human pushcart,' both titles given to him by the Head of Monetization himself, who is sitting on David's desk, having said the words:

"I need your help."

David stares at him, dumbfounded. "I'm sorry, what?"

Brad squints, "I'm not repeating what I said.”

David has trained himself over a few months to detect bullshit. He's gotten pretty good with it, especially with Brad to the point that he rarely bothers him anymore. Being lopsided and losing his eyebrow and mustache has been rather traumatic, and David has promised himself never to let that happen again. So, he pauses because he's not sure if Brad's being honest right now or if his bullshit detector needs more work.

"Let me process this." David says, "You need  _ my _ help?"

"Yes."

Brad replied so quickly, David's almost taken back. He's not sure if the pace is from desperation or something else entirely. Nothing in his face or tone is telling David not to help him.

A beat.

"Okay," he says, "what do you need?"

Brad blinks. "For real?" Like he doesn't believe it. "What happened to being ‘less of a pushover'?"

"I'm still doing that," David says, his eyebrow cocked up. "I just asked, I didn't say I'd help you yet."

Brad purses his lips, nodding as he does. "Makes sense."

Then he looks over both his shoulders like he's about to reveal some dirty secret. He leans in as if someone's going to overhear, even though there's only two of them in their office. David leans in too, knowing that the next sentence will probably be (dramatically) whispered.

It is, but David isn't sure if he's close enough because he probably misheard it.

No way did Brad actually say, "I need you to date me."

David asks him to repeat it, for clarity. Brad rolls his eyes but repeats it nonetheless, this time a bit louder so David's sure that his hearing isn't the issue.

"I need you to date me."

And David's brain short-circuits.

"Am I being punked?"

Brad makes a face, the one he made when David showed him his fighting stick. "What?"

"Is this some other way to mess with me or—”"

"No," Brad says, "okay, let me explain."

They've leaned away from each other, David from shock and Brad for dramatic effect. There's a pause, like the silence before a confession.

"My ex is coming here on Friday—”

"Wait,  _ what _ ?" David says, waving his hand in the air. "Why would your ex come here?"

"For a meeting," he answers matter-of-factly.

"But the only meeting we have on Friday is with corporate, how would your ex—”

" _ David _ ."

His eyes go wide. "You're telling me your ex is from Montreal?"

Brad shrugs his shoulders like it's so obvious. "Yeah," he says, casually. "I dated him for like two years or something."

David blinks. "You  _ fucked _ someone from  _ corporate _ ?"

"They handle the money, David, of course, I did."

Okay, well. That made a little sense.

David shakes his head. No, it doesn't. "Then...I don't get it—why are you asking me out?"

Brad sighs, "I'm not asking you out—”"

"Well, you told me to date you,"

"—I just need you to pretend like you're dating me to show my piece of shit ex that my life is better than his."

"What do you mean?" David leans back on his chair, eyebrows furrowed. "Like, to get back at him?"

Brad nods.

"Did he hurt you or something?"

"He broke up with me," he says, hands gesturing wildly, "For him, it was mutual, but what he doesn't know is that I play to win."

"Win what? Breakups? Are relationships like a game to you?"

Brad nods. His hair's gotten longer and curlier since the quarantine, David realizes. "Are they not?"

He pauses.

"Wow," David says, but there's some part of him that isn't surprised. It's not the first time Brad had said something somewhat psychopathic, like the emotionless husk that he is. But, for some reason, David feels kinda sad.

"So," he says, "let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend so that my boss gets—what—jealous?"

"Ashamed."

"Ah, okay," David says, "why me?"

"You're the only one who'd agree to this."

"I don't know why you'd think I'd agree to this."

Brad squints and shakes his head, visibly confused. "Is this your weird way of saying yes?"

"It's my normal way of saying no, Brad."

His shoulders drop down, "What? But you always help me.”

"I'm not a pushover anymore."

"I liked you better when you were.”

"That's what you get for making me shave."

"That stubble suits you better, just saying." Brad stands up from the desk and puts his hands in the air, the way it does when he doesn't get what he wants. David barely ever sees him do it.

"You'd help me if I say ‘life is meaningless' but you won't lift a finger when I wanna play mind games to the person I once thought was the love of my life? You are  _ weird _ ."

"Thanks," David smiles, obviously not backing down.

#

  
When Friday rolls around, Brad has already given up on finding a fake partner. He tried to annoy David into the role but, unfortunately for him, his bullshit tolerance has bumped up to 11. And it was because of Brad, which David finds kinda funny. Have your time wasted every day and you become acquainted with it, learn to expect it, even.

So, during the whole Montreal meeting, Brad was just giving David the stink eye. And David (he pats himself on the back for this)  _ doesn't _ give in.

He goes to the breakroom after the meeting ended to grab his cookie reward and nibble on it a little. A bite for doing a good job on the presentation and another for refusing to do Brad's bidding.

He is on  _ fire _ today.

And then he hears some footsteps and, from the corner of his eye, he spots Brad and his ex, he introduced himself as Reggie, behind the refrigerator, chatting. He tries not to pry because a) it's not his business and b) he doesn't really care about it, but they're talking so loudly he can't help but hear it.

"How's Montreal?" He hears Brad say, fake interest in his voice.

Reggie says, "It's really great."

"So, engaged, huh?"

_ Oh _ .

"Heh, yeah. Todd—Todd's great."

A pause.

"Todd, your roommate?"

"Uh, yeah.”

"When did you start dating?" Brad's stammering for some reason.

"I'm not sure, like 3 years ago?"

"Didn't we break up 2 and a half years ago, though, Reggie?"

David shouldn't have eavesdropped.

#

When his ex-wife filed for a divorce last year, David, sobbing and on his knees, asked her why.

She turned to him and said, "I don't love you anymore."

Which was code for she found a younger, hunkier, and richer guy than him. She'd been meeting with Andy before she even thought of divorcing David. She had told him she had yoga classes for months and he didn't know it meant she was sucking dick at a hotel her boyfriend owned uptown.

He had no idea, but maybe he did. Because, well, his wife wasn't the most secretive person in the world, and he knew that. He knew in his heart that there was a time when everything was good and then suddenly everything wasn't. He had felt that shift but actively ignored it.

And so, he blamed himself for getting his heartbroken, for not knowing better.

Anyways, this is a long and contrived way of explaining what he's about to do.

It's like his body is on autopilot, fueled with adrenaline and baseless confidence, two things he almost never feels anymore. He shoves his cookie in his pocket and walks to the fridge.

Then, he grabs Brad's face and kisses him full on the mouth.

When he pulls away, he says, "Hey," as Brad stares at him, mouth agape. "I was going to the store, do you wanna join?"

There's a moment of silence when all David can hear is his raging heartbeat. But then, he feels Brad's hand snake into his as a knowing smirk from him grows wide.

"I'd love to," he says, " _ babe _ ."

It's the most intimate David's been with anyone for a year.

#

  
They're outside the office building, walking to the convenience store across the street when they stop holding hands. They've given themselves a bit of distance from each other, to process what just happened. Brad's smiling, grinning from ear to ear. David's hands are shaking.

Brad says, "You're a really good kisser."

David replies, "Thanks, I practice with my hand." Then, "I can't believe I just did that."

"Me too," he says, looking over at David with his eyebrows up, "so why did you?"

"I don't know," he replies, then shakes his head, "No, I do know. I heard him basically confess to cheating on you.”

David meets Brad's eyes for a moment. Genuinely, he says, "I'm so sorry he did that to you. That's awful," hoping his voice reflected his understanding.

"Eh, I already knew about it." He shrugs and looks away. They cross the street. Well, he crosses the street, and David trails behind him. "More pressing issues though. I didn't know you were an eavesdropper. Very unlike you."

When they enter the convenience store, the cashier gives them a forced cheery greeting. David returns it with a smile and wave and a genuine thanks while Brad rolls his eyes behind him and scans the shelves.

David says, "Stop trying to change the subject. My therapist says it's better to acknowledge your hurt before you let it consume you.”

Brad cuts him off by lifting his hand to his face and saying, "David, I don't think you fully understand."

"I do understand! I understand it very well!"

"  _ David _ ," and he shuts up this time, "I pretended not to know that Reggie cheated on me so that when I mention it, he's uncomfortable. I am using his infidelity and my  _ fake _ hurt as personal ammo to watch him squirm. That's been my plan ever since you backed out."

There's that silence again.

Then, "I actually believe you."

"Of course, why would I lie?" A pause. "It's not like it works on you anymore."

That earns Brad a smile from David, who starts to tour the aisles with no real motivation to buy anything. He doesn't know why he's feeling so giddy.

"So," David starts, seeing Brad grab and examine an on-sale tuna sandwich, "you had a plan with me in it?"

He nods.

"Can I hear it?"

Brad looks at him. Then quietly murmurs, "Why are you even helping me?"

It's obvious he wasn't meant to hear it. When David looks at him, there's an underlying sadness to it. His eyes are unfocused and his smile feels, not exactly forced, but not completely true. But it's only for a moment before he slips back to his default smug look.

David shrugs. "I'm going grocery shopping next week. Need all the help I can get."

There's a crack in Brad's look of smugness, a silver of genuine happiness breaks out in a small smile. He hears him say, "You're starting to sound like me."

#

  
On the walk back to the office, they decide on the rules of their pretend-relationship. The rules are as follows:

Rule #1: No more kissing. (David doesn't know if he has any more courage to do that. Brad doesn't complain.)

Rule #2: They can only hold hands when they know Reggie can see them.

Rule #3: This will only last for today since Reggie will be leaving at 5.

#

It's surprisingly fun to conspire with Brad, to be in on the joke for once. In a way, seeing Reggie squirm in discomfort is satisfying, like all of David's anger for different things rolled into one, mean fake boyfriend persona. He knows he wouldn't normally do this, and there are some icky feelings going into it, but David chooses not to care so much, at least for now. For now, he sees Reggie as his wife, walking out the front door. As Jo, choosing to use work time David's paying her for to assist Ian instead of him. As his mom, shoving a $20 bill in his tiny 10-year-old hand and telling him to get lost. As his dad, never coming back home. As the whole of corporate, firing him for finally standing up to himself.

Pretending with Brad is easy. They're holding hands and it isn't weird. David would give Brad yearning, longing glances for effect and he'd catch Brad doing the same, but much more convincingly. They'd sit together in the break room and David would bump their shoulders while telling Reggie a funny travel story to Mt. Fuji, Japan that certainly never happened.

It's great because Reggie is polite but also a terrible actor. He is constantly trying to mask his discomfort with an unconvincing smile. He'd visibly cringe every time Brad calls David, "sweetie," or when David says, "darling." And David tries not to laugh out loud.

It's nice to pretend, to stand close to someone and not be asked to step away. To hold hands and squeeze it and have someone squeeze back. And the fact that it's Brad, of all people, isn't even that weird. It's basically how he and Brad interact plus a notch up on the intimacy. David tries not to think about it that hard, how normal all this feels.

#

At around 3:30, he finds his old, rusted engagement ring in its velvet box in one of the drawers he doesn't open anymore. He ignores whatever sentiment he has to it and sets it down on Brad's desk.

Brad looks at the box and then looks at David. The plan is crystal clear, and David hasn't even said a word.

He asks, "Who even are you?"

David shrugs and smiles, "I don't like half-assing things," because he doesn't. He once tried knitting as a way to pass time during the in-between hours of work and accidentally knitted a yard long scarf by the end of the week.

Brad's still looking at him. He returns his smile and says, "You are so hot right now," without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

David's heart skips a beat. It's weird; he's never felt like this before. He's never been the one to be devious or has a hidden agenda, that role is happily filled by Brad himself, but he's not sure he's ever had this much fun with anyone in his life.

  
#

Brad proposes to David when the elevator to the parking lot dings open. It's romantic and scripted but still convincing enough that Reggie stops in his tracks when Brad starts talking.

They wrote a script beforehand, and it turns out they both enjoy making fun of 'couple' stuff. They throw in words like 'soulmates' or 'destiny' and try not to laugh out loud as they practiced with their office door locked. Brad's using pet names and saying lines ripped from that wedding thing from the Bible and David's trying to hide the snicker that's forming in the back of his throat. It's all going according to plan.

Until it doesn't.

Because Brad says, "You're the kindest person I know."

And they didn't write that.

#

Brad says it was just a bit. He got 'carried away' or something.

David's not sure whether to believe him or not. He puts that on the back burner for now, since, in celebration of their victory for getting fake engaged, Brad is treating him to drinks in his favorite bar. So he's not complaining.

He tells the bartender, “It's for my  _ fiancé _ .” And David almost spits out his drink. 

"You know this doesn't absolve you from helping me carry my groceries next week, right?" he teases, tipsiness making him slur his words.

Brad's no less drunk than him since he replies with a (very nerdy, very cute) "Yep-erooni!"

They clink another round of shots together.

Brad says, "You're a great conspirator. I had a lot of fun today."

To which David realizes is the second nicest thing Brad's said to him today.

#

When they get out of the bar, they're staggering and laughing and are definitely not fit to drive. They decide to split a cab. David calls a taxi as he balances himself with an arm around Brad's shoulders and a lopsided grin.

They sit at the back of the car. They both don't realize that they're still holding hands.

There's a silence before David asks, "Why'd you go off script?"

Brad, whose head was resting on David's shoulder, hums instead of answering.

David's too drunk to let it go. He whines and shakes his shoulders.

He sighs and abandons David's shoulders to look out the window.

He's quiet when he's drunk, David thinks.

There's a song playing on the car radio. He forgot the name of it but mumbles the lyrics while waiting for Brad to talk.

"You're a terrible actor," Brad says after a while. David stares at him with his eyes half-lidded. "I had to pull shit out my ass to make you give a convincing reaction."

David thinks, he's also a really bad liar.

They both don't say anything for a while, letting a pop song fill the silence as they look out the car windows instead of each other. Their hands are still intertwined, but David notices this time. He doesn't want to say anything because he's sure Brad will let go if he does.

If he's being honest, he's not ready to go home yet. There's something incredibly sad about staggering up the stairs to his apartment and opening the lights to have the silence remind him that  _ hey, you're alone _ . It'll be quiet until he decides to microwave his dinner. Then, he'll drag himself to bed but try not to sleep, even when he's exhausted because he doesn't like waking up alone.

But still, the taxi zips through boulevards and city blocks and it takes a few seconds before he gets bored (and dizzy) from the view. He turns to Brad and says, " You were very convincing," then, as a joke, adds, "Mr. Brittlesbee."

Brad feigns a shudder, laughing as he does. "Nope, David Bakshi sounds better.”

They're looking at each other now. Brad's head is resting on the car seat. There's something different about the way he's looking at David. It's softer, somehow.

David has an urge to push his hair back and trace the outline of his nose. There's a weird feeling in his heart, something heavy but not unfamiliar, like a feeling he's used to hiding.

"Brad Brittlesbee," David teases.

"David Bakshi and that's  _ final _ ."

#

They break Rule #1.

David doesn't come home alone.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> follow me on my twit @/trobedcore :D


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